


What do I do when I am so in love with you?

by Stormwing_Queen



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 17:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18319730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormwing_Queen/pseuds/Stormwing_Queen
Summary: One Shot, set after Ozorne undergoes his "makeover" in Emperor Mage. Daine wakes up after four days and realises she needs to talk to Numair. Alone.Underage because Daine is still 16 in this, but I'm a Brit so not to me.





	What do I do when I am so in love with you?

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this one shot came from a conversation with a friend about the similarities between Daine/Numair, and the Harry/Molly relationship in The Dresden Files. 
> 
> Both tall lanky magic users have apprentices that are in love with them, but Numair seems to be the only one sensible enough to do anything about it. In an infamous scene, Harry is propositioned by his student Molly when she is completely naked, save a wizards robe. He then dumps a pitcher of ice water on her.
> 
> It got me thinking about what would have happened if Daine had tried that tactic. What would Master Salmalin do? 
> 
> Bonus points if you pick up on the 10 things I hate about you reference. I swear I felt like Ms Perky at times writing this!

It was the fourth day of Kaddar’s reign when Daine finally woke. As much as the Graveyard Hag had warned that she would sleep three days, it concerned Numair when evening went on the third day and she continued to sleep. When she finally woke he realised how anxious and restless it had made him; after the elation had passed he felt nothing short of complete exhaustion.  Shortly afterward, he retired to his rooms, and promptly fell asleep reading in a chair, the days of worry finally catching up with him.

The University halls were silent when the sound of bare feet on the floor and a soft voice nudged him awake in the early hours of the next day.

“Numair?” the voice called for him quietly. His rooms were dark, illuminated only by the overly bright moon outside the window, but he could clearly see Daine stood in its glow. She was wearing the robe he had discarded when he entered his rooms earlier that evening. The black silk clung to her every curve, and he could tell it was all she wore.

“Daine, what are you doing here? It’s late, you should be sleeping” Numair asked. He was fully awake now and noticed the unusual expression on her face. It was somewhere between anxious and hungry, and it unnerved him, more so than her unexpected appearance in his rooms.

“I’ve been asleep for four days Numair,” she answered, slowly moving across the room and closer to him. “Besides I needed to see you. Don’t worry, no one knows I’m here. Cats roaming the halls get no attention.” She was biting nervously on her lower lip now.

“Why?” he asked, rising from the chair, meeting her halfway. He searched her face for some clue as to her motives as he brushed a stray curl from her cheek. “What’s wrong sweetling?”

“You came back for me. Ozorne wanted to kill you and yet you came back for me,” she lay her hand on his chest, teasing the patch of dark hair just visible at the edge of his collar with her fingertips. “When I thought he had, when I thought you were dead, I couldn’t stand it. I thought I had lost my best friend, my teacher. I have a lot still to learn Numair. There are things I want you to show me.”

Daine slipped the robe from her shoulders, and she stood before him naked. 

“I know I’m not as beautiful as Varice, or refined like the ladies at the court in Corus,” she looked nervous as she spoke, but her blue-grey eyes burned, “ But please Numair, teach me how to touch you, how to satisfy you.”

Numair looked at Daine, trying not to look at anything but her face. He failed, his eyes lingering on the soft curves of her breasts, her long slender archers legs, and the nest of soft curls between them. Gods she was exquisite, and although he had not thought of such a moment, outside of the vicious gossip of the royal palace of course, right now it appealed to him in a way that didn’t feel entirely wrong.

“Magelet…” his voice was low, husky. Before he could get more than a word out her lips were on his. He didn’t react, stunned both by her suggestion and the utterly electrifying feeling of her lips against his.

Before he could regain his senses, she pulled away, stepping backward and dropping her eyes to the floor. All her confidence was gone, the last used up on the brazen kiss. He could see now the heady mix of fear and desire.

“Numair, I… don’t you want..?” she stumbled over the words, but he didn’t seem to hear them. Instead, he reached forward, buried his hands in her hair and pulled her lips back to his.

His lips danced across hers and Daine wrapped her arms around his neck, responding hungrily to his touch. One palm slid down her back and aided the hand in cradling her head in lifting her to his mouth until her toes barely touched the floor. Daine opened her lips against his, deepening the kiss as she found herself acutely aware of the growing fire in her belly. They lost themselves in one another, drunk with breathlessness and longing.

When he finally managed to pull himself away from her lips, Numair rested his forehead against hers and met her eyes.

“Daine,” His voice was no more than a breathless, husky whisper. “Do you know what you’re saying. Do you mean it?” He searched her face for an answer, wanting it to be yes, needing it more than he needed anything in a long time. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, not even to himself until she kissed him, but he had fallen in love with her.

He wasn’t sure when it had happened. He had watched awkwardly as her many admirers vied for her attention since last season at the court, and it had irked him more than he cared to admit. When she appeared on the deck as the docked in Carthak he had seen the beautiful woman that she had become. Ozorne had seen it too, seen what Numair hadn’t admitted to himself, so the Emperor took her, held her in the same empty rooms that still plagued his nightmares.

As much as he wanted her, he was not going to risk losing her again by pushing forward with something that she would regret. When she moved her lips forward to kiss him again, he moved back from her, maintaining the distance between them. He needed an answer.

“Magelet please,” his tone was pleading now, needing her to say the words. "I need you to be sure, do you really want this." Her blue-grey eyes gazed into his as her fingers played with his hair.

“I want this,” she confirmed, biting her lower lip. “I want you”

“You have me,” it came out as a low growl, as his mouth once again claimed hers. Walking her towards the bed, he began to kiss a trail down her jaw. A strangled cry worked its way past her lips as he licked the length of her throat, tasting the saltiness of her skin.

He lay her on the soft blankets, allowing himself to drink in the vision in front of him. Her smoky brown curls fell over her shoulders, tousled and wild, her lean frame blooming into soft undulating curves he found it hard not to linger on. He wet his lips unconsciously as he removed his shirt and breeches, before lying beside her, letting his hands rest in the dip of her waist.

Nervously, Daine ran her fingertips down his chest, following the trail of dark curls that nested there. She kept her eyes intent on his as they slipped below his waist and into his loincloth. Numair released a deep throaty moan as she found his engorging shaft. For all that she was a midwife’s daughter, she was shocked at the size of him as she wrapped her fingers around his girth. He nuzzled her neck, as his hand found hers and guided her as she explored his length.

Daine marveled at the effect she was having on the tall mage. He rolled his hips, stroking himself against her hand, matching the movement of their joined hands as he groaned into her neck. His other hand found its way to the creamy skin of her breasts, teasing the firm peaks until her own husky cries rose to meet his. Soon his mouth found its way to those same peaks, taking them between his teeth, tasting and pinching, burrowing his face into the swell.

Daine pressed her palm against Numair’s chest, pushing him away, back onto the soft mattress. She freed her entwined hand and undid the binding that held the last scrap of clothing between them. His quivering member rose from a thick nest of dark hair, the tip glistening in the moonlight. Returning her hand to hold him again, she continued to caress in the way he had shown her, her lips following the same trail down his ribs her fingertips did until her mouth enveloped him.

“Daine!” he cried out, almost coming undone at the unbelievable feeling of her warm mouth and soft lips. Her tongue licked at the organ in her mouth, caressing and encircling it as she tried to take him fully into her mouth. He dug his hands into her hair, enjoying the sensation for a few moments more, before pulling her back gently, withdrawing from her moist lips reluctantly. Her eyes darted to find his, hesitant and disappointed all at once.

“That, that felt incredible sweetling,” he murmured softly, stroking her cheek and trying to ease her apprehension. “But it’s not what I want.” He held her chin firmly, gently encouraging Daine to meet his lips again. This time, when they kissed, he could taste his own saltiness on her lips. Her breathing was shallow and ragged when they eventually parted for air. Meeting his dark eyes with her shining stormy ones Numair could see she was about to speak, to protest. Placing a solitary finger on her lips, stilling her, he whispered earnestly

“Magelet, Let me make love to you.”

Kissing her again, he rolled until she lay under him, her spine where he had lain moments before. He held himself over her with one arm, the other stroking a long languid line from her shoulder to hip. Daine mewled as she bowed to meet Numair’s delicate touch. Encouraged by her response, the hand slipped lower, finding the warm luscious space between her thighs.

Her cries and moans grew more frequent, more desperate, as he explored the moist folds of her sex, lightly brushing the bud of pleasure within. He watched her face with intense fascination as she began to unravel beneath him. Her legs opened as she found herself lost to the bliss he was building in the pit of her belly. Slipping a finger inside the hot, tight core of her, he watched as her eyes shut and a choked wail escaped.

When he found the taut skin of her maidenhead, he was surprised to find it was intact. He had assumed years of horse riding had taken care of the physical barrier. He added another finger to his exploration, twisting his knuckles within her. She writhed and bucked against the attention of his hand, as he leaned in to taste her lips again. 

Resting his weight on her gently, Numair caressed the very tops of her thighs, encouraging them to open, to spread, until he was able to lay flush against her. As his tongue explored her mouth, her feet stroked his legs as they wrapped around them. Finally breaking the kiss after what felt like hours spent drowning in her lips, he rested his head against hers once again.

“Daine, My beautiful Daine,” his voice held such reverence as he caressed her cheek, watching her eyes widen as he began to ease himself inside her. As he brushed against her maidenhead he paused, allowing her to acclimatise to his girth if not his length. Daine kept her eyes on his, biting her lip through nerves or need, or some combo of both, as he eventually pulled back, and found one of her hands. He took it and held it tightly in his own as he thrust back into the woman underneath him, claiming her maidenhead and filling her completely.

 “Numair.” His name fell as a cry from her lips as he entered her; the word filled with wonder, need and he hoped, love. Gods he hoped it was love.

They moved in tandem, her hips rising to meet his thrusts. Their rhythm slow at first, accompanied by unhurried kisses and endearments whispered into the skin of her throat and breasts as his lips explored.  Gradually the pace quickened, with Daine’s whimpers and groans growing louder and more frequent, matching with the increasing hard, deep driving motions between her thighs. Her nails raked the muscular expanse of his shoulders as he felt the pressure begin to build in the depths of his groin, spurring him onwards.

He watched in awe as Daine came undone beneath him. Numair slipped a hand between them, teasing and stroking the hard bud just above where they joined. She cried out loudly as she felt his fingers tracing their slow pattern, and he could feel her tighten around him as he crushed his lips against hers. He could feel her release building in her, the shivers of cool heat rippling over her skin, the groans he captured in his mouth as he kissed her and the intense feeling of her hot, slick, and velvet soft pulsating around him. He couldn’t stop, but he needed to stall, he needed to feel her overcome by the quake growing in the pit of her stomach before he could allow himself to find his release.

Just as he started to find it hard to maintain his rhythm, he felt the shuddering wave take her. She thrashed wildly against him, trembling so completely he thought she would shatter into a million pieces in his arms.

As her throaty moans vibrated inside his mouth, their lips swollen and bruised from the intensity of their kiss, Numair felt his own climax overcome him as he drove into her one final time before surrendering to the void.

The racing tattoo of pounding hearts and their gasping breaths were the only things either was aware of for several moments after the final little earthquakes flowed over them. Numair’s head lay next to Daine’s, his lips resting against the soft curls at her temple. When his senses returned, he moved, laying on his side next to her, studying her face as she basked in the serenity of her afterglow. Eyes closed, Daine nestled against the hand that stroked her hair, instinctively moving closer to the warmth of him.

“Sweetling?” the word came out as barely a whisper, but her eyes shot open at the sound of his voice in the still quiet in the room. As her vision came into focus again, a shy smile came to her lips.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

She laughed quietly and kissed him gently before answering. "Of course not, it was perfect Numair."

He let out a deep breath he hadn’t realised he was holding and held her close, their foreheads touching.

“Daine why?” he questioned, “Why did you come here?”

“I told you, I… when Kaddar told me that you were executed I realised, how big a part of my life you are.” Her eyes swam with the threat of tears as she recalled the heartbreak. “I mean Ozorne told me that was why he took me, because you … because he knew you would never leave me here. It was like Ma and the bandits all over again and I couldn’t stand it.”

“I know Magelet, I’m so sorry that you had to go through all that again,” he cradled her against his chest and kissed her temple, leaving his lips resting against her skin. “I would never hurt you willingly, I hope you know that, but that isn’t what I want to know Daine. Why this?” He could feel her nervous tremble, and she took several minutes to answer.

“I saw Varice when I was in the palace,” she replied finally, “and I finally understood why I didn’t like her, like any of the ladies… why it irritated me so much. I wanted that part of you too. I know I can’t ever compete, that when we get home they will have you again so I came tonight.”

“You’re wrong about that my Magelet,” Numair was smiling, and it as audible in his voice. ” _They_ are nothing next to _you_.”

 

 

The sun was gaining height in the cloudless sky by the time Numair stirred late the next morning.  reached across the bed, and startled when he realised he was alone.

_Did I dream it?_

No, he reasoned, he couldn’t have. Aside from anything else, it was not his habit to sleep nude. He quietened his mind and listened, but he could hear no one else in the suite of rooms with him. Confused by her absence, he rose to retrieve the crumpled remains of yesterdays’ clothes from where he had discarded them in the night and dressed, intent on discovering where she had gone to

_Did she panic, worry about my reaction in the cold light of day? Did she regret coming here, being with me?_

The robe that had covered her when he woke lay, not on the floor where she left it, folded neatly upon the chair he had slumbered in. On the black fabric sat a delicate silver chain, to which was attached a solid silver claw with wire wrapped at its base. He had never seen it parted from its owner before.

Beaming from ear to ear, he snatched it up and set off to discover exactly where its owner had wandered off to. 

 

 

 


End file.
